This is about two of kittehs and my characters... Ily, kitteh 3

EVERYTHING belongs to me and her.

Warnings: Mention of abuse, Mental illness, Angst

I'd love comments =]


The little one was having nightmares again. He didn't know where they came from, of course, but he had them. Memories from Dark's mind often slipped over into the little one's when he was sleeping. He'd wake up terribly upset and calling for Tuve until he realized that his brother wasn't there anymore. Then the other one would calm him down and Dark would slip away again until another nightmare. But this time, no one came to calm the little one down and he fled from the images, hid deep inside and let Dark deal with the memories.

It had been a long time since he had been in control of this body, but with it came the painful memories and the danger, because every time the little one locked himself away he was thrown into a terrifying situation. He looked around carefully, trying to orientate himself. Where was he? He wasn't in the usual cold room he'd normally wake up in, but in a warm bed. It was comfortable, and maybe he could go back to sleep…

A sound made him freeze, eyes wide staring in the direction where the footsteps emerged from.

"Ricu?" asked a soft voice "Ricu? I heard someone scream… did you have that nightmare again?"

Dark froze and scrambled away from the approaching footsteps until his back was pressed against a wall. He had acted without thinking, automatically. Even though he knew his actions would probably bring him into troubles. "Ricu?" the voice asked again "What's wrong?" Dark didn't respond, narrowed eyes fixed on the stranger standing in the doorway. He carried a candle that illuminated his features, and a worried expression on his face. The stranger walked over to him and sat on the bed, while Dark never took his eyes off the man, but when he stretched out a hand, Dark jerked away and pressed himself further into the wall, his green eyes now big with fear.

The other one looked at him, confused. "Ricu!" his voice was louder this time. Again, the other one stretched out his hand and Dark flinched, expecting to get hit. The red-haired man froze, his outstretched hand hovering in the air and the confused expression changed into a frown. After a few seconds, the hand dropped onto the bed. "Ricu…?" this time, the voice was tense with something Dark couldn't identify, and the golden eyes narrowed. But he didn't respond, staring at the other's hand that was still lying on the bed. "What is going on?"

Silence. "Tell me what's wrong!"

No answer. "Dammit, Ricu! How am I supposed to help you like this?"

Suddenly, two hands were grabbing his shoulders, nails digging painfully into his skin, and shaking him. It hurt, but he knew it would get worse. It always started with small pain that seemed insignificant compared to the agony he would have to endure later. So instead of protesting or struggling against the rough treatment, he let himself go limp which caused his head to fall back and collide painfully with the wall. The shaking stopped abruptly when the other one heard the sickening thump of flesh and bone hitting the hard wood. "Shit! I'm sorry! Are you okay?"

Dark didn't respond, even though the voice was much less sarcastic than what he had expected and instead of the cruel tone that he was used to, there was concern. But it was fake. He remained limp against the wall, glancing at the other one with half closed eyes, waiting for the hands to hit him or, worse, to touch him. The other one's features were twisted with worry and fear now, and Dark realized that he must believe him unconscious. It surprised him to see someone so worried about him, so afraid to have hurt him. M wouldn't have minded, he knew. He would have left him there, on the floor most likely and call for Tuve to take him away. Or he would just have continued, and sometimes the pain would rip Dark away from the wonderful darkness he had escaped into.

Tuve, of course, never hurt him. He was always soft, kind and gentle. He cleaned his wounds, he calmed and comforted him when he was shaking and crying, though he never patronized him. He simply held him, whispering soothing words when things were at their worst. He knew that there were two Ricus, but it never seemed to bother him. He treated the little one like his kid brother, and Dark like everything else. Often, they talked. About everything, about nothing, and Dark began to understand that Tuve accepted him as a completely different person than the little one. And that he loved him; as a friend, as a brother and maybe even as a lover. But there was never anything physical, never anything that went beyond Tuve fixing him, or holding him. They were both sick of being touched, sick of the feeling of skin on skin.

Tuve was the only one he didn't mind touching him, the only one he felt comfortable around. Because he knew the other's only intentions were to help him, to clean his wounds and keep him together when he thought he might be falling apart. To hold him close when he felt so sick and numb inside, to stop him when he was clawing at his skin and ripping it off to make the feeling of M's hands go away that always seemed to linger on his body.

Tuve had been Ricu's brother, but to Dark he had been much more. They had been soul mates, bound together by all the agony and suffering they had endured together, all the whispered conversations at night. Together, they had managed to survive, clinging to each other when everything else was falling apart. They understood each other without words and Tuve always seemed to know when Dark couldn't even stand the thought of being touched, or when he longed for someone to hold him albeit screaming at Tuve to stay away, fighting and struggling against the other one's hold.

He remembered Tuve, saying his name, not the little one's name, but the name the older one had given him. Cayed. It meant "dark" in elf, and Dark loved it. Not so much because of the meaning, but because Tuve had given it to him. The only thing he had left from him.

He remembered that soft voice, saying his name. He remembered hands calmly prying away his bloody fingers from his ripped and torn skin, the sad smile and the hot feeling of guilt because he, again, had broken his promise to Tuve. He remembered the calm eyes, not judging, not pitying, simply understanding. He remembered the arms that held him close, made him feel safe and kept him from falling apart…

A hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality. He jerked away, surprised and cursed himself for that only a moment later. He had made a mistake when he had just switched, surprised and confused because the unfamiliar place in which he found himself, had allowed fear and panic to take over, acting rashly and making things worse instead of doing what experience had taught him to do. He would not make the same mistake again. He let himself drop back against the wall, waiting for something to happen. After a few moments, however, he heard the bed creek and saw the other one slowly rising to his feet. He looked at Dark one last time, before he disappeared into the doorway. The child didn't move, but remained frozen in the uncomfortable position against the wall. Slowly, when he decided it was safe to move, he shifted into a more comfortable position. Hugging his knees, his head resting on his arm, Dark stared into the black nothingness that surrounded him, unable to fall asleep.

It was in that position that the other one found him, hours later, when the rising sun was painting the sky golden. His muscles were hurting from the unusual position, and he was so incredibly exhausted, so tired… But he wouldn't let himself fall asleep, wouldn't let his guard down even though he knew that, in the end, it made no difference. It never did. When Dark heard the approaching footsteps, he tensed. His thoughts were jumbled, made no sense because of the exhaustion that made his limbs feel like lead. Somewhere, somehow, a few hours ago the memories had started haunting him and it had taken all his willpower not to scream when the scenes replayed themselves over and over again in this head. A hand landed on his shoulder, and he wasn't sure if it was reality or his memories becoming too vivid again. "You're crying," the voice said again, and he knew it was Tuve, because Tuve was the only one who would care or even notice. "What's wrong?" Dark shook his head slightly; enjoying the other's presence even though he knew it wasn't real. Warm arms wrapped around him, and Dark leaned against the warm body, closing his eyes.

"I miss you…" he mumbled, "Come back"

The other one laughed, a soft, calm sound. "But I am here…"

"No, you're not."

"Ricu…"

Dark's eyes snapped open at that name, and when he turned his head he realized that it wasn't Tuve, that it wasn't his imagination. Golden eyes looked at him, and he struggled, trying to get away.

"Ricu! What's wrong?" the arms kept holding him, just like Tuve's used to.

"Let me go!" he screamed, thrashing around wildly.

"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you" the soft voice said again, arms that wouldn't let go tightening around him. "Shhh… Ricu, it's okay"

He was sobbing by now, too tired to hold back the tears he had never cried. "No, it's not. And stop calling me that!" His voice was shaking.

The voice sounded confused but soft with a quiet laugh. "But that's your name."

He shook his head "That's his name." unwilling to explain further. There was silence for a few moments. Then, without sounding patronizing or unbelieving, the other replied: "And your name?"

Again, there was silence. He was unable to tell the name Tuve had given him, so he decided on "Dark. I'm Dark" he whispered, his voice hoarse with tears.

The other one seemed to accept, just like Tuve had done.

"I'm Mido"

Dark nodded, but didn't answer. There was silence for some time, the child crying and the older one holding him.

"You should sleep" Mido said after a while, and Dark nodded sleepily, exhausted from crying. The other one let him go, and Dark curled himself up, listening to the other's footsteps slowly disappearing, then they hesitated and there was a quiet "Good night, Dark."

And as he slipped away into the welcoming darkness, he felt a hand on his head, gently ruffling his hair and a warm and soft voice. "Good night, Cayed."